Rip these hands off my my face.
I scream so loud but my voice echos off the walls of His prison.
So loud I hear all of them scratching at my feet nailed to the floor.

they are coming for me, for my soul.
I cant move, and my breath is only but a silver mist in the dark, and I fear it is my last
Tell Me I am crazy, Call me crazy, I know what I feel the proof is on his bed down the hall.


The drums of the dark are beating louder with every night.
I am falling further away from reality, I see my self every night, and I am led farther away.

FIRE on his face, Fire on his face
DARKNESS is his mystique .


The drums of the dark are beating louder with every night. I know they are coming.
I can feel Him behind me.